


The Sleeping Prince

by satelliteinasupernova



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Cryogenic Sleep, F/M, Meet-Cute, Outer Space, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-21 09:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21297074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satelliteinasupernova/pseuds/satelliteinasupernova
Summary: On most days, Betty’s work was more akin to that of a bounty hunter, which was ironic, considering she had a pretty considerable bounty on her own head. As long as you knew the right people, that was something that you could work around.For the moment, Betty was a bit strapped for cash, so she had picked up a few shifts clearing out debris from space. Clean up work paid pretty well around the colonies if you already had your own ship capable of the work. The added benefit was that you could sell any decent scrap you collected. She could make a pretty penny selling a cargo ship, especially if it was in good enough condition for her to make the repairs herself, but a person on board made a payout less likely. Either way, she wasn’t about to just leave someone floating in space.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 98
Kudos: 99
Collections: 6th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	1. meet cute IN SPACE

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sullypants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sullypants/gifts).

> Wrote this for the prompt to combine the tropes SPACE AU and BATHTUB FIC. Leaving this open-ended because I wouldn't mind writing more in this universe.

UNKNOWN OBJECT DETECTED

Betty was repairing the fuse to the switch box behind the seat of the cockpit when a notification blinked onto the clear screen of her goggles. She sat up and leaned over to the main ship console, pulling her goggles up onto her forehead. 

“Full report,” she instructed the console, sitting down in the pilot seat.

On the overhead screen, the computer highlighted a small area in view and enhanced the image. Even as the computer started to read out the report, Betty could see that it was some sort of carrier ship some distance away.

LONG DISTANCE TRANSPORT UNIT. POWER RESERVES DOWN TO CRITICAL LEVEL. CURRENTLY IN STASIS LIFE SUPPORT MODE.

“There are people on board?”

ONE LIFE CONFIRMED.

Betty stood up and prepared her gear, making sure she had a restocked first aid kit and her pistol. “Where did it even come from?”

UNIT WAS MANUFACTURED IN THE S REGION. ORIGINAL FLIGHT ORIGINATION UNCONFIRMED.

Betty whistled to herself. That region of space was several years of space flight away, even with the most advanced ship tech. It was also known for being a largely ungoverned area that was prone to regular skirmishes between different gangs fighting for power.

“Prepare to approach and dock, but give me a warning if there’s any activity.”

COMMENCING APPROACH.

Betty put on her protective space suit and waited in position by the side entry as the ship docked.

This situation was unusual, but nothing Betty wasn’t comfortable handling.

On most days, Betty’s work was more akin to that of a bounty hunter, which was ironic, considering she had a pretty considerable bounty on her own head. As long as you knew the right people, that was something that you could work around. 

For the moment, Betty was a bit strapped for cash, so she had picked up a few shifts clearing out debris from space. Clean up work paid pretty well around the colonies if you already had your own ship capable of the work. The added benefit was that you could sell any decent scrap you collected. She could make a pretty penny selling a cargo ship, especially if it was in good enough condition for her to make the repairs herself, but a person on board made a payout less likely. Either way, she wasn’t about to just leave someone floating in space.

Betty boarded the cargo ship with her pistol in hand, and clicked on the flashlight on the side of her helmet. Her own ship fed in data to her helmet screen, giving her its own reads of her surroundings. The inside of the cargo ship looked like it had been shot out from the inside. Everything was in disarray, chairs completely on their side, open supplies across the floor. Betty stepped through it carefully, following the small steady green light that marked the sign of life.

She found the source in a small space next to the large cargo area. According to her read-outs all of the ship’s remaining power had been fed into this area. 

It was a Cryogenic sleep chamber. All of the cryogenic pods were empty save one. Near the back a small light illuminated the frozen figure of a young man. He was still dressed in long pants and a jacket, which wasn’t typical protocol for cryogenic sleep. She suspected he had been placed in the chamber as a last resort. There were small bullet holes in his jacket, and blood was spattered across his shirt and neck.

Next to the pod was a small screen with status readings. Despite the blood, the system reported that he was in healthy condition. 

With the ship low on power, Betty wouldn’t be able to run a thawing procedure. She would have to tow the cargo ship to a place with cryogenic tech she could use, or find a way to recharge the machine within the ship itself. A machine that might not even still function properly outside of its stasis state.

Either way would be expensive. She knew a friendly, if shady, place she would borrow some tech, but it would drain most of her ships resources to tow the ship there.

With a sigh, Betty headed back to her own ship to set up the magnet to tow the cargo ship. Saving a life always turned into a major expense.

  


Veronica was happy to see her when she finally made it to La Bonne Nuit, a decadent space port that functioned occasionally as a black market auction house. 

“B! I’ve missed you!” She pulled Betty into a hug and kissed her cheek. As always, Veronica was dressed to the nines in an elegant black dress with a large necklace of diamonds around her neck.

“Hey, V.” Betty glanced around the parlor. “Any chance you could lend me Pop for a few hours? I have a need for his… expertise.”

“Oh,” Veronica said, her hands still holding Betty’s arms. “Of course, anything for you, B. Did you find something interesting?”

“That’s one way to put it,” she said.

Pop’s specific expertise was, really, a bit of everything. That was because over the course of his time as auction house appraiser, he had seen just about everything. Some of the things sold through the market required cryogenic sleep, the exotic bird or what not, so La Bonne Nuit had its own state of the art tech.

After Betty loaded the cargo ship into the port’s secret hanger, Pop helped Betty disconnect the frozen pod from its place in the cryogenic chamber and transfer it to La Bonne Nuit’s unit.

Pop adjusted his glasses as he took a look at the new system’s readings. “Poor young man has been iced for nearly 5 years. You’d have to dig into that ships console to figure out where he’s come from, but the S Region sounds about right.”

Betty nodded in agreement.

“Thawing out is going to be a bit rough for him,” Pop continued, “He’ll need some time to adjust.”

This time Betty sighed. She tried not to add up the cost of taking care of another person on top of everything else. This man was going to let her sell his ship for money, whether he liked it or not.

“Are you ready?” Pop asked her. “I’ll be running the machine logistics, so it’ll be up to you to help him out.”

Betty gave a resolute nod, and took a position next to the frozen pod.

The thawing process was quick, less than a minute at most. Betty watched as steam rose off the ice, the shape of his body becoming more clear, like a statue being carved from stone. When the ice was completely gone, and the temperature had hit a stable point, the doors of the pod opened, and the young man fell forward.

Betty caught him before he could fall, and lowered him to the ground. She surprised herself by instinctively setting him into her lap so his head was resting against her chest. He blinked his eyes open, and looked around frantically. He was shaking like a leaf.

“You’re okay,” she told him. “You’re safe.”

He reached his arms up, putting his hands on her arms where they were wrapped around his chest. When he looked up at her face, he stilled for a moment, though his body was still shaking. 

“I’m Betty,” she smiled at him. His eyes were a brilliant blue, and his expression had changed from one of fright to a vivid curiosity. “What’s your name?”

He swallowed, and when he spoke his words came out in rasp, “Jughead. My name’s Jughead.”


	2. Long way from home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who expressed interest in this story! I'm having fun with it, and I hope you continue to enjoy it as things develop!

“Boy!” FP spit out as he grabbed Jughead by the collar. FP’s face had grown an ugly red, and there was a visible vein protruding from his forehead. Jughead knew that the sound of gunshots outside of the ship was the only thing keeping him from a painfully long lecture.

He’d really screwed up this time.

In Jughead’s defense, Penny Peabody had been plotting a way to take over the Serpents ever since Jughead had been given command. So really, her betrayal was probably inevitable. Jughead had just sped things along.

“Boss, what’s the plan?” Fangs’ voice buzzed over Jughead’s earpiece.

Jughead put his hand to his ear. “Have you found cover? Give us-”

“No, you don’t.” FP pulled the earpiece out of Jughead’s ear. “You’re not the Boss-man anymore, Jughead. I’m taking back the reins.”

“Dad!” he yelled back, hating that even to his own ears, he sounded like a petulant child. The ship shuddered violently as a series of explosions went off nearby. 

“Shit,” FP said, as they both ran to the cockpit to look out the front window. 

The Serpent’s hanger was on fire. At least half of their battle tech was still down there, along with most of their supplies.

“Damn it,” Jughead pounded his fist against the console.

“Penny must’ve made a deal with the Ghoulies,” FP said, grimly.

“We’ve got to get everyone out of here,” Jughead said, but as he turned around a fist connected to the side of his face. His body collapsed into the co-pilot chair. His head was in a daze. When he finally started to come around, FP had already lugged him over his shoulder and carried him across the ship.

Before Jughead had time to free himself, FP threw him into one of the cryogenic pods used for long distance travel. When he tried to escape, Jughead’s shoulder collided with the pod door as it closed in front of him. He was locked in.

“Dad! What the _ hell _ are you doing?” Jughead banged against the glass.

“The Serpents are over, Jughead. I’ll take care of things from here.”

With that, the chamber flooded with gas, knocking Jughead unconscious within seconds.

  
  
  
  


The next thing Jughead knew, he had woken up to the pain of a deathly chill settled throughout his entire body. It felt as if his own bones were made of ice. At his arms was a searing warmth, so intense compared to the chill of his skin, that it felt like it was burning him. As he shook loose, he realized that the warmth had been coming from a pair of arms.

He twisted his body to look up, and saw the pleasant face of a woman looking down at him with concern. “You’re okay,” she said. Her voice was soft and comforting. “You’re safe.”

He didn’t know what he was doing here. He couldn’t even remember what he had been doing at all before he had suddenly woken up to his body cold as ice. Her warmth didn’t feel so painful anymore, so he reached for her arm, feeling the heat against his cold hands.

“I’m Betty,” she said. His mind still foggy, he clung to each word like an anchor. “What’s your name?”

It was painful to speak, but he tried anyway. “Jughead. My name’s Jughead.”

She patted him on the side of the arm encouragingly, and for the first time he started to take in his surroundings. He was lying across a hard metal floor with his head in Betty’s lap. It looked like they were in containment center of some kind. It was only then that he saw the open cryogenic pod a foot away from them.

_ Ice _, he thought.

“He’s going to be groggy for a while. Best that you find somewhere for him to rest,” a deep voice said from over Betty’s shoulder.

“A room has already been arranged,” said another voice from further down the hall, “The best La Bonne Nuit has to offer.”

“Thank you, V,” said Betty, as she pulled her legs out from under Jughead and got to her feet. With her hands under his arms, she pulled Jughead up from the floor in one swift motion. _ Strong _, he thought to himself as she placed his arm over his shoulder and led him out of the room. For some reason, his mind kept circling around that thought pleasantly.

By the time Betty had escorted him up an elevator and down what looked like a hotel hallway, Jughead’s mind was starting to clear, but it was only as he sat down on the plush red sheets of an intricately decorated hotel room that it finally hit him that he wasn’t where he was _ supposed _ to be.

Where were the Serpents? Where was his dad? Where was _ he _?

“Where are we?” Jughead turned to Betty, who was standing at the door.

“Later,” she said, resolutely. “I’ll have some food sent to you. I’ll be back after you’ve had some time to rest.”

“Wait!” he said, standing up from the bed, but Betty simply shut the door behind her. When he moved to follow her, he found the door locked.

He groaned in frustration and collapsed back onto the bed. Letting out a deep breath, he gave himself a moment to think. 

Clearly, he’d been iced. Slowly, he could recall an image in his head of his dad on the other side of the glass. He could remember FP’s muffled voice, “The Serpents are over, Jughead.” 

Jughead sat up and looked around the room for anything that would give a hint about where exactly he was. He opened the drawer of the bedside table and found a small black notebook and a pen. Emblazoned across the notebook were the words La Bonne Nuit. When he opened to the first page there was a list of bar hours and events. At the very bottom was La Bonne Nuit’s contact information. La Bonne Nuit, Exclusive District, Region O.

“_ Shit _,” Jughead threw the notebook across the room. Region O. Then he was years away from home. 

He ran a hand over his face. There was no telling how long it had been since his dad had forced him into cryogenic sleep. He needed to find out how he had even got here. He needed Betty to come back.

A pressurized noise came from the other side of the room, followed by a small chime. Jughead watched as a small compartment opened up and a warm meal was lifted onto the nearby table by a small conveyor belt on the bottom of the compartment. Once the meal was set, the door to the compartment closed.

There was no point in wasting perfectly good food, so Jughead stood up and grabbed the plate. The meal looked expensive. Portions of meat with multiple delicate side dishes and small gold flecks across the rim of the plate. Jughead ate the entirety of it within a few minutes.

Despite his best efforts to stay awake and wait for Betty’s return, he soon found himself spread out on the bed, asleep.

When he woke up again, feeling almost as groggy as he had before, he quickly realized that he wasn’t alone.

Betty was seated in a cushioned chair in the corner of the room, a set of goggles over her eyes.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. He groaned in response, but sat up in the bed.

“I’ve pulled data from the cargo ship you were found in. Apparently your ship travelled from Region S with the destination set for Region N.”

“Of course,” Jughead muttered to himself. Region N was where his mother had gone when she’d left with Jellybean. FP had effectively kicked Jughead out of the Serpents and sent him to her.

Betty continued, “Your ship ran out of fuel 80 percent of the way through the trip, and you were left stalling on life support. I think we can assume that gravity eventually pulled you toward a Region O colony, since that was where I found you.”

“How long has it been?” Jughead asked, fearing the worst.

“A little over five years,” Betty said matter-of-factly.

Jughead leaned back against his pillow. It wasn’t great news, but considering how badly things could have gone, he knew he should count his blessings. Trips from Region S to Region N typically took 3 to 4 years depending on the ship. The idea that he could have spent eternity floating out in space was something he didn’t want to focus on too much.

He was feeling anxious enough thinking of how much could have happened with the Serpents in just five years.

“How old are you, Jughead?” Betty asked without prompting.

“Nineteen,” he answered. You didn’t typically add travel years onto your age, after all.

“And your last name?”

“Jones…”

With a small hand controller, Jughead could see her inputting information into her headset. When she seemed to find what she was looking for, she cocked her head curiously. “Forsythe _ Jughead _ Pendelton Jones the third.” she read out slowly. “Wow, I didn’t realize you were _ royalty _.”

“I’m not,” he corrected. Strictly speaking, the Joneses hadn’t been royalty since his grandfather’s era. “I’m the son of the son of a deposed king.”

She pulled her goggles down to look at him now. “I take it that means you aren’t sitting on some great inherited wealth, and can therefore afford to pay me graciously for saving your life?”

“No,” he said. Although she was clearly negging him for money, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sheepish. Even if he could get ahold of his account, he’d never had much cash to spare, and the exchange rate between Region S and the more metropolitan Regions was historical abysmal.

With a sigh, she put her goggles back over her eyes.

“I am grateful, though.” He added, awkwardly. “That you saved my life.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, her tone still mournful. “I’m just in a bit of a tough spot right now.”

“Aren’t we all,” he muttered, mostly to himself. For the first time since he met her, she gave an amused smile.

It suited her, he thought.


	3. Questions

Jughead wanted to see the cargo ship. Betty was already itching to head out, so she agreed to let him take a look around while she got the ships ready to go. As they walked down the hall, Jughead kept glancing over to her, but following her lead, remained quiet.

She didn’t really know what to do with him. 

If she wanted a pay out from repairing his ship, she couldn’t just drop him off at a port somewhere and clean her hands of all of it. That meant keeping him around at least long enough to make the repairs, sell the ship, and then determine what his next step would be.

Betty knew a lot of the decision would be down to what exactly Jughead wanted to do about his situation. Whether he wanted to get a flight back to Region S, or follow his original plan to head to Region N. She wasn’t used to revolving her plans around someone else. There were too many unknown variables at play. It made her anxious.

Betty was still thinking about how she wanted to proceed when they made it to La Bonne Nuit’s hangar bay. Pop was sitting at a desk in the corner, registering a new shipment into a nearby console. Betty nodded to him as they passed him by.

“Glad to see you’re up and looking well,” Pop said to Jughead.

“Yeah. Uh, thanks for your help…” Jughead glanced over at Betty, looking uncertain.

“You’re welcome, young man. Just don’t give Betty a hard time.” Pop teased, turning back to his work with a smile. Pop wasn’t one to pry.

Betty hopped onto the ledge on the side of the cargo ship, and released the lock on the door. Jughead followed her inside.

When Betty had explained the circumstances to him earlier, he had seemed overwhelmed, but overall not surprised. Apparently by the time she had made it back to the hotel room, he had come to his own conclusions about his situation.

Now, however, at the sight of the cargo ship in disarray and the clear gunshots on the wall, Jughead looked visibly distressed.

“What happened?” he said out loud. Betty was pretty sure he didn’t expect her to have an answer, but she took another look around the cabin, anyway.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked.

He sighed heavily. When he looked over at Betty, his expression was almost sheepish. “My dad threw me into the Cryogenic pod. We were betrayed and were under attack by a rival gang.” He leaned down and righted one of the chairs, putting it back in its place. “I don’t know what happened after that.” 

Betty started to sort through the ship’s remaining log data, displaying it across the screen of her goggles. There wasn’t much, but she could tell that the flight manifest had been set on a delay. The command launch had been given from outside the ship.

“The trip to Region N wasn’t your idea?” she asked.

“No,” he laughed, but it lacked any humor. “This was definitely my dad’s plan.”

“He set it to launch when he wasn’t in the ship then,” she explained. “He triggered the command from outside of it.”

Jughead sat heavily in the chair he’d just righted. “He must have given himself up to the Ghoulies.” He looked so upset then that she almost regretted helping him come to the conclusion.

“What’s in Region N?” she asked, hoping to distract him.

His was still somber as he answered, “My mom and baby sister. They moved to Region N when I was still a kid.” When he glanced up at Betty, his eyes were wet, “I couldn’t tell you where they even lived, honestly.”

With a small sigh to herself, Betty walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. Unlike when she had held him earlier, his skin was warm and his shoulders steady. He reached up to put his hand over hers, but turned away from her, hiding his expression. 

She wanted to say something to comfort him, but was at a loss of what she could do. Betty didn’t have enough experience with good luck herself to promise it to anyone else. She may not know who the Ghoulies were, what the situation of the betrayal had been, but she knew Jughead had reason to be concerned for the worst case scenario.

She wrapped her arms fully around his shoulders, and looked out at the mess in front of them. When she had searched through the ship before, it had just been abandoned junk to her, but she knew for Jughead, the sight was very different.

They stayed that way for a few minutes before Jughead seemed to notice something. He softly moved Betty’s arms aside, and walked over to an overturned box. It wasn’t the contents he was interested in. He focused on something stuck underneath. He lifted the box and pulled the item loose. It was a knitted hat with pointed sides along the rim. It looked a bit like a crown.

As Jughead put it on his head, his mood seemed to lighten. “At least this isn’t lost,” he said, turning to Betty with a smile.

For a _ not _-prince, a crowned hat seemed a little on the nose. She stepped toward him and adjusted the rim over his ear. His face softened at the gesture.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked, looking down at her with a new and open affection that made Betty suddenly eager to put her focus somewhere else.

She stepped out toward the door. “We’ll move from here, I don’t want to take up space at La Bonne Nuit longer than we need to. I have a place we can store the cargo ship while I do the repairs. Then we’ll sell it, split the cash, and you can decide what to do from there.”

He walked over to her, closing the gap she’d made between them. There was an amused look on his face as he tilted down to her to say, “You weren’t even going to ask me before you decided on this plan to sell my ship?”

“No,” she boldly replied, standing her ground. “You need cash to travel. I need cash to replenish the fuel I wasted saving you.”

He was still smiling, but didn’t fight her on it. “Then, I can come with you?”

“Unless you have a better idea,” she shot back at him. “They might have a job opening at La Bonne Nuit serving alcohol at the bar.”

He rolled his eyes, ‘I just meant- is it okay for me to tag along with you? I feel kind of like I’m some lost pet you just took in.”

“As long as you do what you’re told.”

Something about her tone made him grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

  
  


Betty’s goodbye to Pop and Veronica was brief. Veronica pulled her into her arms one more time as she prepared to go.

“You know you could just stay here,” Veronica half-whined.

“And you know I can’t,” Betty responded. She had grown used to the pitying looks she got from her old friends. There wasn’t much she could do about it.

Jughead watched their interaction with interest, and thanked both Veronica and Pop one more time for their help. 

As Betty sat in the pilot’s seat and prepared to go, Jughead sat beside her. He was watching her again. She was having a hard time imagining what about her was so interesting to him.

“What’s your story, Betty?” he asked, catching her off guard. She realized that she’d forgotten what it was like to meet someone who didn’t already know her whole life story. She deflected, a natural instinct of hers by now.

“I do odd jobs to make money. That’s really all there is to say.”

“You’re from this Region?” he asked, sounding thoughtful.

She looked over at him impatiently, “Yes. I was born in Region O. I’m 23 and I make money as a bounty hunter. Does that answer all of your questions?”

“No,” he said with a small laugh. “But I can take a hint.” He glanced down at the console. “I’m used to being co-pilot,” he said, changing the subject. “I can help.”

“Then help,” she said, and pulled the throttle, guiding the ship out of the hanger.


	4. Betty's home

It felt weird to Jughead to leave one hangar, just to travel to another one a thirty minute flight away. 

Right away, it was clear that the accommodations would be very different from La Bonne Nuit. The hangar Betty had taken them to seemed to function more like a collection of large storage units, each big enough to hold a large space ship, or in their case, two relatively small ones.

Betty was prompted to type in a code over the console when they approached the doorway of one of the storage units, and proceeded to delicately land both ships into the large open space of the unit. There were thick lines across the floor from many previous landings, residue from the ship’s landing wheels. 

To the right of where they had landed, Jughead could see there was a large platform taking up the entire side wall. Unlike the rest of the hanger, which was open and empty, the platform was clearly used for storage, packed with shelves, racks, and boxes. 

Jughead followed Betty as she hopped out of the pilot seat and exited the ship. A bridge had been connected from the ship’s right-side door to the platform. Betty immediately starting pulling a few tubes that had been hanging off the side railing and plugged them into the side of her ship.

“Can I help?” he asked, feeling awkward.

She glanced at him, as if only just remembering he was there. She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then glanced down at his clothes. “Did you have spare clothes in the cargo ship?”

He shook his head with a small shrug. At the time of the attack he hadn’t exactly been planning a 5 year long trip.

She pointed her chin over her shoulder to a stack of boxes behind them. “Sometimes I find old clothes when I’m doing debris clean up. You can see if there’s anything there that fits you.”

Jughead wasn’t particularly eager to wear clothes that had been previously lost to space, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to be picky. 

In order to get to the area she had motioned to, he had to step over some spare ship parts and push aside a trolley of maintenance tools. 

It was only as Jughead passed a tall stack of instant food to find a small table nearby set up with a portable stove and cooking pan that he realized that this hangar was probably where Betty lived. It reminded him a bit of home. The Serpents had often found themselves making due with what shelter they could find. However, he was used to taking care of a group, sharing in duties and resources. Betty, it seemed, functioned entirely on her own.

Based on her reaction to his previous probing, the question of why she was on her own was probably off limits. Jughead continued to the open basket of clothes a few feet away from the table, but continued to look curiously around at his surroundings.

Not surprisingly, all the clothes were in need of a good wash. Most of the items were coveralls and beaten up T-shirts. He was able to find a few that looked like they were at least tall enough for his height. As he threw one of the coveralls over his shoulder, his elbow bumped into a sheet that had been covering something nearby. As the fabric slid halfway to the floor, Jughead could see the sheet had been covering a rack of clothes. Hung onto the rack were a full set of delicate dresses, tops and skirts in soft colors of blues, pinks and cream tones. 

It looked very different from the stained, muted clothes Betty was wearing now. It took him a moment to shake his no-nonsense perception of her enough to imagine her wearing the types of clothes on the rack. He decided they suited her.

“Did you find anything?” Betty called from her place by the ship.

His automatic reaction was the pull the sheet back over the rack to cover the clothes. He wasn’t sure why he felt so self-conscious about finding them, but he stepped back and spoke as if he hadn’t seen them.

“Not much. There’s a few things that might fit.” He started to walk back over to her.

Betty leaned over a shelf to look at him. “We can go to the market tomorrow. I’ll have an inventory of the supplies we’ll need for the repairs.”

When Jughead came close enough to see her, he found that Betty had taken off the panel on the side of the cargo ship and was running a series of tests with a handheld device. He put down the clothes he had picked out and sighed. “Betty, really, what can I do?”

Betty was focusing on dislodging a wire as she spoke. “You can use my ship’s console if you want.” Her eyes flickered over to him. “Try to contact your family?”

Jughead looked back over at her ship, a pit settling in his stomach. He wasn’t really sure that was an option. None of the Serpent’s communication was strong enough to reach this far out. He didn’t even know how to start with hunting down Gladys. He shook his head. “There’s got to be something I can do.”

Betty studied him for a moment before saying, “You know you don’t  _ have _ to help. I’m pretty quick at this stuff on my own.”

He answered her with an exasperated look.

“Fine,” she said with a small smile. “It would help me if you could sort out anything still remaining in the cargo ship. Set aside anything you want to keep.”

It felt like busy work, but it was something. Jughead stepped up into the cargo ship and started to clear things out. The cargo ship hadn’t been for personal use, the fuel it burned through was too expensive for anything besides transport jobs. At the time of Penny’s betrayal, Jughead and his dad had simply been using the ship for cover. He knew he wouldn’t find much of use.

He found a few remaining packets of instant food in one of the ship’s side compartments. A jacket that had been stuffed into a corner and forgotten. Transport documents. A lot of empty boxes. 

In the end, the only thing he found that seemed of real value, aside from the ship itself, was one of the Serpent’s range communicators. They were all synced to the same system, the communication scrambled by an encryption. The long distance would still be a problem, but he might be able to hook it up to a larger antenna and increase the signal.

While they took a break to eat, Jughead sat beside Betty on a small bench just outside of the edge of the platform. He updated her on what he’d found. 

She set her heated noodles aside and took the communication device in her hands and looked it over. “I think we can work with this.” She turned the device over. “The battery has probably expired though. I’ll add it to my list for tomorrow.”

It was several hours later that Jughead finished with the clean up. He had no real concept of what time it was, or even which clock rotation Betty structured her day around, but after everything that had happened to him, he was feeling worn out. As he stepped off of the cargo ship, he stretched out his limbs.

Betty seemed to follow his train of thought. “There’s space in the ship to sleep.” She looked thoughtful as she added. “I’ll just have to do some rearranging.”

She stood up and hopped up to her ship. Once again, Jughead followed her, even though she had given no indication that she expected him to.

There was a tight corridor behind the main cockpit that linked into a small storage space. He hadn’t seen a place to sleep when he had been on the ship earlier, when he’d briefly used the ship’s bathroom. He’d found the bathroom hidden behind a small door near the storage. It was just large enough to fit a tight shower and toilet seat. 

As Jughead watched, Betty pulled up a side panel from the wall, revealing a twin size sleeping area with a bed cushion, blanket and pillows. 

Just as he was absently thinking that there was just enough room for both of them, Betty had turned to the other side of the corridor and opened up a second panel. Behind the door, the compartment space was packed to the brim with supplies. As she quickly started to unload everything, Jughead reached out and tried to find a space for them in the small space along the wall across from the bathroom.

As soon as it was cleared out, Betty pulled a second bed cushion and blanket from another small compartment above the other bed.

Jughead couldn’t help but laugh, “You really use every space on this ship.”

Betty shrugged. As soon as she had set up the second bed, she hopped up into it, kicking off her shoes. Jughead glanced at the two spaces. The compartment Betty had cleared out was significantly smaller than the other one. Betty had to curl up her legs to lie across it.

“I can take that one,” he said, patting his hand on the mattress next to where she was already lying down.

She turned her head to the side, her body angled so that she was looking at him upside down. There was something adorable about her obstinate expression. “Your legs are too long, Jughead. You won’t fit.”

“But.” He glanced back at the other bed, trying to find the courage to offer to share it with her.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, and turned on her side away from him, effectively ending the discussion.

With a sigh, Jughead pulled off his shoes and settled onto the larger bed. He wasn’t sure what to make of Betty, who kept choosing to do nice things for him, but always followed it with a curt attitude. She acted like helping him was a hassle for her, but went out of the way for him without even being asked to.

When he glanced over to her, he saw that she had turned back toward him and was watching him. He turned over so that they were facing each other. 

He felt like he should say something, but wasn’t sure what he wanted to say.  _ Thanks again for your help _ sounded trivial compared to what he was feeling. Without Betty he would have been lost, in every possible way.

“I’m going to turn off the lights,” she said, practical, as always, but there was a new softness in her eyes that left Jughead with a flicker of nerves humming through his body.

“Goodnight, Jughead,” she said. As she laid her head down to sleep, she didn’t turn away from him.


	5. The Market

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who regularly read and comment on this fic, you are wonderful. I love you and I hope you have a great day.

The market that Betty tended to frequent was a re-purposed pit stop that had gone out of business shortly after the large corporations of Region N had branched out into the nearby regions. What had once been a long strip mall had been taken over by individual sellers who rented out the space for a few hours at a time. It was almost always bustling with shoppers, bartering and trading at each stall. The building padding that had once sealed the hard metal walls to dull the noise of the traffic had long disintegrated. The collective noise was loud and distracting, but it suited Betty just fine.

Still, she secured her goggles over her face before she entered the area.

She saw Jughead wince when they stepped out into the open area, the noise hitting them in one sudden burst. He seemed to adjust after a few minutes, and started looking at the stalls with curiosity. 

Before they left, Betty had scrounged together a box of things she’d collected that she thought might make for a decent trade. As they had exited the ship, Jughead had insisted on carrying the box. He was holding it under his arm now in a protective stance that told Betty that he was taking the job way too seriously.

Not for the first time, Betty was tempted to tease him for it. He seemed just so eager to please her.

She had done a bit of research on him. Partly out of curiosity, and partly to see if she could find out the current status of his family. What little records she had found had listed him as the leader of a Region S gang called the Serpents. They were a small but effective group who focused primarily on keeping several of the nastier groups in the region at bay.

It was hard to get any more detailed information from the sources she had available to her. The politics between gangs just wasn’t going to get attention from large reporting sources. That kind of information was more likely to be spread around small underground networks in that region.

As Jughead looked to her now, expectantly, she couldn’t help but think, not for the first time, that he wasn’t exactly what she expected a gang leader to be like. Much less a prince.

Betty walked past the stalls inspecting their wares first, before deciding which ones she would approach. She had learned to be strategic in how she bartered. It was best to have a good idea of what she wanted and what she was willing to trade before she had even come to the clerk’s attention.

One clothing stall interested her. The clerk was an older woman, sitting down on a stool in front of a heating unit that was rattling so heavily that it was shaking on its feet. When the unit abruptly stopped working, the clerk hit it with the head of her cane until it started up again. The stall had extensive wares, varied in style and sizes. Jughead would be able to find something among them that suited him.

When she was close enough for the woman to hear her, she said, “For ten clothing items, I’ll fix that unit for you.”

The old woman looked up at her skeptically, running her eyes up at down her as to access her ability. “You can make it stop making that miserable racket?”

“Yes,” Betty answered confidently.

After another long pause, the clerk said, “Five, and you have to pick from those boxes.” Betty glanced over to the section the clerk had pointed to, a pile of clothes that had been thrown together haphazardly. Clearly the stuff that couldn’t sell.

Betty turned back to the clerk, fixing her with a stubborn look. “Six. And we choose from everything except the specialty items.” Betty pointed to the racks on the opposite side of the stall that was clearly dedicated to rare, fashionable finds.

The clerk gave a long breath, but accepted with a short nod. 

Betty didn’t realize she had been smiling to herself until she stepped back over to Jughead to retrieve her tools. He was staring at her with a strange look on his face.

“What?” she asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Nothing,” he answered quickly, but there was a small smile on his lips.

She tried to shake his expression from her mind as she got to repairing the unit. The repair itself was easy, a few of the pieces had come loose, and the insides were in need of a good clean. Twenty minutes later the unit was back running now only with a mild hum. 

The clerk’s expression didn’t change as she looked over the unit, but Betty could tell that she was satisfied.

When she walked back out toward the clothing selection, she could see that Jughead had already selected a few items. Hung over his arms were a pair of long pants with convenient pockets strapped along the legs, and a small collection of shirts in dark colors and grays. When she stepped up to him, he had his hand on long sleeved, pink sweater.

He glanced up at her when he noticed her presence. His eyebrows were creased thoughtfully as he said, “This would fit you, right?” He lifted the shirt up so that it draped over her front.

It was a pretty color, a soft rose, and the shirt itself wasn’t very different from the tops she typically wore under her coveralls. Regardless, she took the shirt in her hand and put it back down on the table it had been laying across. “It’s not-”  _ Not for me _ , she thought. Bright colors would draw too much attention.

“I’m not the one who needs clothes,” she clarified. Jughead looked slightly puzzled at her reaction, but he didn’t argue her on the point.

Betty continued to feel Jughead’s eyes on her as they made the rounds among a few other stalls. Jughead followed Betty’s lead and took the initiative to barter for a few things he thought would be useful. When he found some short range communicators, he managed to persuade her that it could help them keep in touch if they were separated. Betty didn’t think Jughead would really be with her long enough to use them, but there had been a desperation in Jughead’s eyes that she couldn’t ignore. After all, he had lost connection to everyone else he knew, hadn’t he?

Not long after, she found Jughead inspecting a rack of antenna, varying in size -and usefulness- as far as Betty was concerned. She knew what he was thinking about. That Serpent communicator he had found in the cargo ship.

She found herself standing next to him, her shoulder bumping against his. “Those aren’t worth it, Jug.” she said, with sympathy.

He blinked at her, “Why?” She felt strangely emboldened by his expression, already confident in her opinion.

“These are long range, so they’ll send the message, but there won’t be a way for us to know if it’s received unless we buy a long range receiver.” She looked up to meet his eyes. “You could be waiting forever without knowing if someone was trying to get back in touch with you.”

Jughead’s mouth tightened unhappily. “What’s our better option?” he ask, rightfully suspecting that she had a solution.

Betty glanced around them. There was no one close enough to overhear them. As it was, she could only hear Jughead over the noise when she was standing just beside him.

“We hack into one of the Region’s communication towers. The message will travel faster, and we can track who received the message and from where.”

“You can do that?” he asked, clearly impressed.

Betty laughed, “No.” 

“But you know someone who can,” he answered for her.

Betty shrugged, Jughead hadn’t taken long to pick up on how she worked. From his perspective it probably seemed like she had a wide network, but the truth was that the number of people she relied on was very small. She only kept in contact with the few people who had skillsets that were worth the risk.

“I do, but it will cost us. So we’ll need to take care of the repairs and sell your ship first.”

Jughead was smiling at her. “I really wish we’d had you in the Serpents.”

She eyed him, a chuckle in her voice, “Would you have made me your Royal mechanic?”

Jughead rolled his eyes, “I swear, it’s not like that.”

“Really? Being royalty had nothing to do with you leading a gang?”

This time, Jughead sighed, “No, I know it did… The Serpents existed before my Dad joined them, and I know they wanted Dad’s name to give them some legitimacy…” He stopped for a moment, thinking before he spoke again. “Look, monarchy is shit. I’m not going to pretend otherwise. I’ve just always wanted to do what was best for the Serpents.”

He kicked his feet slightly as they walked away from the stall. Betty thought he looked oddly boyish in the moment.

“I was asked to take over. My dad… things went downhill for him after my mom left. He had always been a heavy drinker, but it just kept getting worse. I ended up filling in for him, and eventually, I had taken over for him in name too.” Even as he shrugged off the matter with his father, there was a sadness to his face that Betty couldn’t ignore. She wasn’t sure why he had decided to share this part of his history with her. It was something he was clearly ashamed of.

Betty looked away from him, focusing on the crowd of people in front of them. “I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to have a difficult relationship with your parents.” She could feel Jughead’s stare turn toward her almost like it was a physical touch. “I’ve been estranged from my parents for a few years now.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, she barely heard it over the noise of the market.

She shook her head. “They feel like I’ve betrayed everything they believe in… and I guess I did. I don’t regret my choices, but no matter what, I can’t help but feel shamed by it too.”

Jughead stepped closer to her, his face lowered so that it was only a few inches from her. She kept her gaze at the floor, but she could feel his warm radiating onto her skin. “They don’t deserve you, Betty. Or your consideration. Trust me.”

He didn’t know anything about what she’d done, and maybe he would think differently if he knew more about her, but she felt herself tearing up just the same. 


End file.
